


Loving with nobody to love

by RainbowCosmos



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Spoilers to episode 40, Unrequited Love, set in early s2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22130209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowCosmos/pseuds/RainbowCosmos
Summary: Martin is just tired of being lonely. He's tired of feeling like love is hard work. Loving Tim could be so easy. If only he loved Tim
Relationships: (referenced), Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Kudos: 36





	Loving with nobody to love

**Author's Note:**

> Hey what's up this is entirely self serving thanks for reading ilu

The lights are lower than usual when the two of you step into the bar that evening, and you realise that you’ve never come here on a Friday before.

The prominent baseline of the song is pounding through the brick walls of the usually-quaint establishment, and you’re not at all surprised that Tim already seems to be picking it up, his shoulders moving with a fluidity that you couldn’t hope to copy. He turns back to you where you stand, his hopeful smile gleaming in the few, neon lights that you didn’t even know the bar had installed. You’re still hovering in the doorway, and for a moment you entertain the idea of pulling him back into the street- where he could actually hear you over the music- and asking him to go somewhere quieter. But you don’t actually want quiet tonight. 

Well, you also don’t want to dance, but between the excited way Tim is swaying his whole body now, and the fact that you  _ really _ don’t want to talk about anything heavy tonight, you find yourself stepping further through the door and allowing him to lead you into the throng of people. Somehow, impossibly, his smile gets bigger.

It definitely doesn’t surprise you that Tim Stoker can dance. Not that you’ve had any occasion to see him in action, given that you very firmly prefer to stay out of said action yourself. You can already feel your few ‘safe’ dance moves getting repetitive as you try to keep up with Tim on the busy dancefloor.

The heavily auto-tuned line of the song hits, loud enough to reverberate the air in your lungs.

I know you’re tired of loving- of loving with nobody to love

So just grab somebody, no leaving this party with nobody to love

And you laugh to yourself, joylessly, the noise completely drowned by the blanket of music. Tim catches you as you do, and he grabs at your hand, pulling you just slightly closer, smiling at you with that Tim Stoker Smile. The one that makes you feel like he’s handcrafted everything good in the world just for you.

Well, it doesn’t surprise you that he can dance, because you’ve  _ sort of _ daydreamed about dancing with him before.

-

It had started that night that he’d kissed you.

It had only been a short moment and you don’t remember anything about how it felt. But you do remember that when he’d pulled back, his face had been so horribly open and vulnerable, hopeful. Dreadfully, your face had apparently been open as well. Because he’d caught on pretty quickly that you didn’t reciprocate the feelings that he evidently had for you.

That night you had laid in your bed and felt horrible, felt like it was your fault for not liking this  _ perfectly great guy _ who, somehow, incredibly, was into you. You’d stayed up all night and worried about the work day ahead of the two of you. How the sudden, awkward tension would completely destroy what was, honestly, one of very few healthy friendships you had left.

Blessedly, Tim was always something of a straight-shooter. Particularly in the wake of Jon’s burgeoning paranoia following the Prentiss attack, he prided himself on maintaining up-front, explicit communication. And when he’d pulled you aside the next morning for an open discussion, you could see that his smile was genuine, even if it tried to hide a little hurt.

He’d rambled at you, almost nervously, for a long moment. He’d apologised profusely for kissing you without asking. He’d stammered about how he  _ knows _ that you have feelings for J- for someone else. He’d told you that he valued you as a friend, and that he doesn’t want to lose a good person like you from his corner. And with a sheepish smile he told you he’d been overwhelmed seeing you look “like that” in the moonlight.

\- 

You’re pulled back from your thoughts when the song dies down for a long second in the middle, and suddenly you don’t know how to dance to fill the silence. Tim definitely doesn’t seem to mind, just continues to roll his whole body to the beat that has faded out for a moment before it comes crashing back.

Things always look so easy for Tim. Things are always easier with him.

And that’s how things  _ could be _ with Tim. Easy. Happy. Simple.

All the times you’d spent together, happy and laughing, are amplified in your mind as you project them onto new scenarios.

-

The time you’d driven together into rural England to investigate a possible lead. The memory changes in your mind. You imagine taking a holiday with Tim, driving a long way south, to somewhere with actual beaches made of actual sand and not just tiny rocks like in England. Constantly fussing over him and offering to take the next shift driving, though you know he’d never let you. “You’re too valuable on the aux cord”, he’d told you on your investigation trip, and the visual changes in your mind so he’s lit with a warm summer sunlight and all the tension has left his shoulders.

When you’d reach your destination, he would pull himself from the driver’s seat and stretch his arms over his head, taking in the beauty of the seaside with a serene smile. You don’t need to dig deep to imagine this. When Tim Stoker smiles, he means it, every time.

He’d take off in a dead sprint for the shoreline, kicking up soft white sand on his heels, leaving you staring after him in surprise, beside the still-unpacked car. But you’d follow him. You’d follow Tim anywhere, following him onto a pristine beach that gleams in the sunshine is hardly a chore.

As night falls, the two of you would sit side by side by the bonfire until he pulls you to your feet, hand warm in yours as you both let your toes sink a little into the soft sand. He would pull you close by the lights of the moon and the stars and the glowing embers beside you. And the two of you would dance. Slowly. Happily. Easily.

Loving Tim would be so easy.

**Author's Note:**

> /dabs 
> 
> Drop requests in the comments I guess? I just really love talking about tma fannon so.... hmu if U wanna chat


End file.
